


And the Lyre of Apollo

by willowharmony13



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowharmony13/pseuds/willowharmony13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misadventures and new developments surround the LITs procuring the Lyre of Apollo from a kind of annoying band of hipsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Lyre of Apollo

As if regular missions weren’t hard enough, the earplugs made it about a million times worse.

They were retrieving an item- the original Lyre.

_“Technically the Lyre of Apollo,” Stone had volunteered._

_“But you said that that Hermes guy invented it. So_ technically _it’s the lyre of_ Hermes _,” Ezekiel had countered._

 _“_ Technically _, both of you should shut up,” Baird had finished, grabbing both boys by the scruff of their necks and steering them toward the Back Door._

The main issue with the Lyre of Hermes/Apollo was that when it was played, it induced a sort of musical fugue state- all the unfortunate victim could do was listen to the music and rock out to it.

_“That doesn’t seem too bad-“ Cassandra began._

_Jenkins cut her off. “Yes, it’s all good fun until the music stops and all those affected enter a brief murderous rage.”_

_“So, we find the Lyre before they can play it. Simple enough. I mean, it would kind of stick out in Seattle,” Baird shrugged._

_“It’s not going to be that easy,” Jenkins shook his head. “The Lyre’s been around since the Ancient Greeks. If it stayed a lyre all the time, it would be in a museum by now. Or in the Library, more likely. But unfortunately it was made by Hermes, the god of thieves and tricksters.”_

_“Sounds like your kind of guy, Jones,” Stone elbowed the younger man._

_“I don’t see any problem with him, certainly,” Zeke said with a shrug._

_“As I was saying, it’s clever. It disguises itself as different instruments through the years, usually a string instrument. There are accounts of it being a harp, a mandolin, or a viola. It’s believed to be the cause of a riot at the premiere of one of Tchaikovsky’s ballets-“_

_“The Rite of Spring Riot? That was the Lyre?” Stone interjected excitedly._

_“Yes, it was. As I was_ saying, _it won’t look like a lyre. It’ll be something more mundane. Think guitar, bass, maybe even a fiddle or banjo. But whatever it is, it’ll have this marking on it somewhere.”_

_He showed them a picture of a caduceus superimposed over a rising sun._

As it turned out, some indie band trying to break into the music scene stumbled across the Lyre, now a guitar. They quickly grew in popularity (making them thankfully easy to identify as the new owners of the Lyre) and all of their gigs ended in wild success- and riots. Most people didn’t notice because the band only played in bars, but the clippings book did.

The plan of tracking them down and getting the guitar was going well. Ezekiel wanted to steal it, but Baird insisted that they would attempt to buy it first. Stealing was Plan B.

_“Sell it to you? Are you insane? This thing’s our lucky charm,” the frontman protested._

_“We’ve got one show tonight, and then we go on the radio tomorrow. Sorry, man. I know this thing’s awesome, like some sort of antique, right? But we can’t give it up,” their other guitarist added._

Which brought them to where they were now, running around a bar with wax stuffed in their ears (because _apparently_ regular ear plugs weren’t up to snuff, and Jenkins had to give them some magical wax or something) trying to steal a guitar _in the middle of the show_ knowing that as soon as they stopped playing, the entire crowd in the bar (which was surprisingly big) would turn into crazed murderers. No pressure or anything.

The plan was simple enough: Baird and Jake were to be towards the front of the crowd, acting as a distraction for the band. ( _“Okay, I get her, but why am_ I _a distraction?” Jake asked incredulously. “Did you_ see _the way the bassist was checking you out, dude?” Ezekiel replied with a shrug. “Oh. Yeah, I can do that,” Jake said with a shrug._ ) Cassandra would be on the catwalk above the performance, waiting for Ezekiel’s signal to get one of the spotlights to fall on an empty part of the stage. When the chaos happened, Zeke would spring from backstage and simply pluck the guitar out of the frontman’s hands while the guy was distracted. There wasn’t even a strap on the guitar, making the whole thing simpler.

The plan, of course, did not work out that way. It was all going fine at first- Cassandra dropped the light right on cue. The band all jumped off their barstools, swearing up a storm. The crowd started to grow agitated, jaws clenching and knuckles cracking. Eve and Jake tried to catch the boys’ attention, but the effort was lost as one of the audience members pointed up and screamed, “ _It’s that bitch’s fault!”_

The entire crowd began throwing glasses, bottles, anything they could reach, really up towards Cassandra, who was yelping and leaping out of the way of the projectiles. Taking advantage of the renewed distraction, Ezekiel snagged the Lyre and ran offstage, and then froze in the wings.

He had to make a split-second decision. In front of him was the stairway to the catwalk. To his left was the exit. He could cut and run, sure. They knew that once the Lyre was far enough away, its effects faded. But who knew how long that would be, or if Jake and Eve would get to Cassandra before the crowd got her? No. He had to go get her. He’d seen her trying to think her way out of the situation, which only brought on her sensory overload. With a glance over his shoulder to the roiling crowd, he took a deep breath and bolted up the stairs.

He found her in a ball on the catwalk, hands over the back of her neck, muttering to herself very quickly. He removed his own earplugs and then gently placed his hands on her wrists to get her attention. Her arms dropped slightly, and he reached forward to remove her earplugs.

“Cass, I know you’re overwhelmed, but we have to go now. There’s kind of a murderous mob below us. And probably behind us. There’s an emergency exit behind you. We’ll go out there and then figure it out, okay?” he said quickly, but softly. She nodded in response, and he grabbed her hand and ran out the door with her.

They were now on the roof, which Ezekiel couldn’t decide was a good or bad thing. Away from all the stimuli, Cassandra had calmed a lot.

“We still need a way out-“ he began, but Cassandra held up her hand to shush him.

“Shh. Doing math.” She spun about a bit, her hands following invisible equations and images. Ezekiel actually found it to be a bit beautiful, if freaky. It was like some sort of odd dance that he simply couldn’t hear the music for.

“Got it!” she cried, snapping him out of it. Grabbing a beer can that had been left out on the roof, she marked a spot on the ground. “If we start running right here, we should have enough momentum to carry us to the next roof.”

“Fine then, I _guess_ we can use that instead of _my_ plan,” he sighed overdramatically.

“And what was your plan?”

He shrugged and laughed. “Flying away?”

“We don’t _have_ those shoes anymore, Ezekiel.”

“I was _joking,_ Cassandra.”

“Fine then. Start running on three?”

“Yeah.”

“One, two-“ the door burst open.

“Three!” Ezekiel finished, off like a shot.

He was running, and then suddenly he was leaping, all the way across the gap. It felt magnificent- until the landing, which consisted of him tripping over the ledge and rolling ass over teakettle as the Lyre skidded away from him.

Groaning in pain, he glanced up and saw Cassandra standing above him, offering her hand, her dress not even rumpled.

“Please tell me you fell too,” he moaned, taking her hand.

“If it makes you feel better,” she said with a giggle, pulling him up.

They were now a lot closer together than intended, which brought about a nervousness he quickly tried to quash.

“Uh…. The Lyre!” he bolted away, trying to save face. _Ezekiel Jones_ did not get tongue-tied over some sheila. Did he? He grabbed the Lyre, drumming his fingers on it nervously.

“We need to get it away from here,” he muttered.

“I know that. But Baird and Stone are still down there. And I don’t see another roof to jump to, so getting away in time to keep them from getting ripped apart by a mob?” Her voice strained with worry.

“They’re pretty good fighters…” a sharp look from Cassandra nipped that sentence in the bud. “No. Think, think….” He drummed his fingers on the guitar. He looked down at the design, the caduceus over a sun. The god of thieves made this, right? Surely the king of thieves could turn off the stupid crazy harp. He tapped the caduceus. “Come on, Hermes…”

As soon as he said the god’s name, the design, and then the entire instrument, began to glow. It changed shape in his hands until it was an actual lyre.

“Oh my goodness,” Cassandra gasped. “They’re stopping!” She turned to him, laughing and hugging him. She kissed him on the cheek, and something clicked in him.

Her arms still around his neck, he looked down at her, glancing at her lips quickly before asking, “Is it okay if I-“

She’d pulled him down and kissed him before he could finish his sentence.


End file.
